


Owls Are Wise

by TerribleTerribleOrbs



Series: In Which The Owl Tempted [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley is the angel Anthony, Crowley owns a flowershop, Crowley's Plants (Good Omens), Demon Aziraphale (Good Omens), Demon Gabriel (Good Omens), Gabriel is a demon named Gabreel, Guys why isn't that an actual tag?, I had fun with it idk, M/M, Oh yeah almost forgot the most important tags, This verse's Beelzebub basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 01:23:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerribleTerribleOrbs/pseuds/TerribleTerribleOrbs
Summary: Azrafel and Anthony talk about the first Temptation. Anthony doesn't think an Owl was really the way to go with all that mess, and Azrafel disagrees.





	Owls Are Wise

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who hasn't read the first part of this series--I suggest you do! It'll make things a little clearer. For anyone wondering, in this verse Aziraphale Fell and became the demon Stolas (name since changed) and Tempted Eve in the form of an owl. Crowley is the angel Anthony.

“Why an  _ owl?” _

Azrafel blinked. “What?”

“An owl. Why an owl? Doesn’t seem like the type of creature to spark the first Temptation.” Anthony was mostly mumbling to himself. He didn’t really expect a real answer from Azrafel--demonic nature and all that. “I mean, humans think of owls as untrustworthy, now, but only because Eve spread word of who tricked her.”

“I didn’t  _ trick _ anybody. I pointed out that there was a major design flaw in the Almighty’s Garden.” Azrafel corrected. “That’s beside the point, though. Having it be an owl made sense.”

“Did it though?” Crowley asked. “I mean, say it had been something a bit spookier--like something slimy. Scaly.” They both sat in thought for a moment.

“Crocodile?” Azrafel posed, thinking about Gabreel’s disgusting, slinking creature. Shared the same smile, really. All teeth.

“Crocodile!” Anthony agrees. “Picture a crocodile slinking up to her. All those nasty fangs. You would listen to a thing like that, right?”

“Thought your lot was supposed to love all of Her creatures?” Azrafel questioned, raising one expertly manicured eyebrow. Anthony ignored him. 

“ _ I’d _ listen. Wouldn’t much listen to an owl though.”

“I’m well aware of  _ that _ .” Azrafel shot back, suddenly feeling quite defensive of his species. “And it wasn’t about  _ scaring _ her. That lacks craftsmanship. It was about--about--”

“Temptation?”

“ _ Temptation _ .”* Azrafel sighed. “Owls. Owls are rather wise, now aren’t they?”

_ *At this point, the wine was starting to kick in. _

“Of course  _ you’d _ say that.”

“Ok, but you must admit that, generally, they’re viewed as wise by humans?”

“Did you have a part to play in that?”

“Of course not.”*

* _ Yes, he did. _

“Okay, alright. I admit that humans think they’re wise.”

“Rightly so, of course,” Azrafel added. Anthony, again, rolled his eyes. “But anyway--wouldn’t you listen to a wise old thing rather than a scaley thug with too many teeth? That’s what worked about it. It wouldn't have worked with simple smooth talk and a creepy  _ aesthetic _ . She had to think she was pursuing the only smart path. Doing the only Wise thing someone in her position could do.” Azrafel sat back in his chair and held back an indignant huff as one of Anthony’s plants poked his side. They were both quiet for a while.

This usually happened whenever they came back from lunch/dinner. Anthony’s flower shop just seemed to automatically trigger his weird, existential moods once Anthony had had enough wine. They were quite enjoyable to take part in, truth told.

After a while, Anthony spoke. “She would have done it anyway, you know.”

“I know,” Azrafel replied, quiet. He didn’t like to think about it. “It wasn’t pure Desire. Selfishness. It was the need to expand her mind. To grow her knowledge like the plants around her.” 

“Always liked her,” Anthony muttered.

“Well, obviously. You handed over half your robes to her.” Azrafel very nearly snickered.

“Angelic generosity--never underestimate it.” 

More silence.

“Oh--look. How’d it get to be twelve already?” Anthony asked, suddenly, and he was up and out of his chair in a moment. Azrafel could take the hint. 

“Right. Better be off, then?” He asked, standing. 

“Best be. You’re going to run someone over coming home late, one of these days. It’s Inevitable.”

“In  _ my _ car? Alright.” The cream-colored Austin Somerset Convertible he’d picked up in the 1950s was a very, very unlikely killer. Azrafel liked to drive extra slow, just to piss people off on the highway. It worked well enough. 

He grabbed his coat and started for the door.

“G’night, Azrafel.” Anthony said, grabbing the vintage bottle still sat on the coffee table.

“Goodnight.” He paused. “Oh, and I’m thinking of changing it.”

“What? Your name?”

“Yes, again.”

“Every couple hundred, it’s new. Just settle, already.” Azrafel ignored him.

“I think I’d rather like to go by Azerfel, now,” Azerfel said. “Getting closer, I think.”

“You’ve been saying that for six thousand years,” Anthony replied. Azerfel finally pulled his coat on and opened the front door. A deep, deep part of him didn’t want to leave. Anthony felt much the same and dutifully ignored it. “‘Least it’s similar. ‘Member when you jumped from Ezferal to Azriafail?” Azerfel made a face.

“Stupid change, that one. Didn’t seem the least bit right.” He muttered. Anthony quite disagreed, but decided to keep that to himself. 

For the third time that night, they lapsed into silence. It wasn’t as comfortable as the others, though. Azerfel was well-aware Anthony didn’t really approve of his search to find his Pre-Fall name. He really, really wished he didn’t think about Anthony’s approval as much as he did, but it was too late to do anything about  _ that _ , now wasn’t it?

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Azerfel paused. Panicked. Gave Anthony an awkward, terrible hug, and fled. Went to his Somerset, and sat down. He thought about Anthony’s obvious confusion and sighed.

Maybe owls weren’t so wise, after all. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr is @igosploosh, in case you want more GO stuff :)


End file.
